


Of Fires and Flames

by thanksforthecrumb



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Indecision, Love, i guess?, maybe idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1483831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanksforthecrumb/pseuds/thanksforthecrumb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But he loves Mary. Doesn’t he? She is the girl he would’ve died for, the girl he wanted to spend his life with. He still wants that. Or does he? Does he want something else, now that he’s seen another?</p>
<p>A fic attempting to show Bash's conflicting emotions towards Mary, who has seemingly turned away, and toward Kenna, who has more or less placed herself at his feet and who has showed him a promising future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Fires and Flames

**Author's Note:**

> This did not come out the way I wanted it to. So, advance apology on that. Fic is written starting at the Kennash kiss in 1x18 and extends after the scene cuts away.

She reaches up first. She tugs on the hair on his neck, and she’s already brought her lips to his before he decides what’s to come next. His mind is dizzy with indecisiveness and confusion. Does her kiss her, or leave her lips cold? But then it’s too late to make a decision. He’s already pressed his lips to hers, his answering call. She’s swirling her fingers in his short hair and he closes his eyes, bringing his hands up to her face.

She’s not a bad kisser, actually. Quite good. And he chides himself when he realizes that’s what he’s spending this moment thinking about. Instead, he directs his attention to Kenna. Beautiful Kenna.

Her lips are warm and a bit dry. They taste of flour and he wonders what kind of pastry has passed those lips today. They are slimmer. Very different from Ma—

Mary. In all this confusion, he’s forgotten about his love. Mary. Mary. He imagines her wide brown eyes opening. But then the woman in his arms opens hers, her almond shaped honey-brown eyes, warm and fiery. They are alight with happiness and hope. Mary’s eyes looked different when he kissed her. They were dark. Hooded, almost. As if she was hiding them from him.

But this girl. This girl is completely open with him. There is nothing closed about her.

She pulls back and gives him a tiny smile. It quickly changes into a wry smirk, and her arms spring to her sides, where she grips her hips, her elbows pointing outward. “Well. I’d be lying if I saidI didn’t enjoy that.” She pauses, her warm eyes sparkling. “Bastard.”

He feels himself grin at her. A wide grin. Ear-to-ear. She gives him this infectious feeling, like he’ll never stop smiling. She’s still staring at him with that saucy little pose, those bright, intelligent eyes. She’s making him laugh the longer she stands there. And suddenly, he wants to make her laugh. So he dips into a tight, shallow bow, his arm bent sharply. He flourishes his bob with a twist of his wrist as he comes back up, his eyes never leaving hers.

Her almost snide smile is now a delighted beam. Her nose is scrunched up a bit from her breathy giggles, and he finds it adorable. They stand there, just inches apart, staring at each other, smiling. Hoping, maybe? He doesn’t know what’s going to come next. 

She crosses her arms and says superiorly, “There’s more where that came from. _If_ you play your cards right.”

His wide grin gets bigger, if it was even possible. He crosses his arms over his chest, too, replicating her stance. He cocks an eyebrow comically. “If we’re to play a game of cards, you should know I’m _very_ good at poker.”

And just like that, he’s set her off. Her hands spring up to her mouth and she starts to snort and chuff. Soon he’s laughing with her, both of them getting heartier and louder, until they both collapse side-by-side on the bed, holding their stomachs. Every once in a while, one of them remembers a moment of their hilarity and lets out a giggle, which causes the whole process to start again.

When they’ve settled down, Kenna reaches for his hand. They don’t look at each other. They grasp each other’s hands, friendly and open. She opens her mouth to speak. He can see it from the corner of his eyes. “We make an all right pair. Don’t we, Bash?”

He tilts his head to look at her. She’s moved her head sideways so she can watch him. And he thinks about it, her question. Because he doesn’t want to lie to her. So he thinks.

A week or so ago, he would’ve politely avoided the question. Because he didn’t feel they made any sort of pair besides a bitter one. But now. Now, this girl, this wild, fiery, beautiful girl, had thrown herself into his life. And he isn’t sure he doesn’t like it.

A month ago, he would’ve said he didn’t like it. Didn’t like her. Hell, it was just weeks ago he’d told Mary he didn’t even like Kenna. But that’d changed now.

Mary is Mary. She is beautiful and willful and strong. Her authority and her regality is something he admires, one of the things that caused him to fall for her. But Kenna. Kenna is a ball of rebellious fire, burning hot and wild and unrestrained. She and Mary share that fire. But with Mary, it is a flame, something that flickers and sometimes burns bright. With Kenna, it is an all-consuming, raging, fire. This girl, this Kenna, is almost careless with her wildness, her will. And he loves it.

But he loves Mary. Doesn’t he? She is the girl he would’ve died for, the girl he wanted to spend his life with. He still wants that. Or does he? Does he want something else, now that he’s seen another? 

He feels he sees Kenna. Feels he sees her better than anyone else. And not just because he’s seen her undress. He feels that he _understands_ her. They are so alike. Unwilling to bow to another’s will, wild and reckless, naive. They are two kindred spirits. He never had that with Mary. He thought he did, thought he saw the same fire burning in her that burns in him. And maybe it’s there. But with Kenna, it’s so much stronger. With Kenna, he feels freer. Which isn’t to say he didn’t feel free with Mary. But with Kenna, everything is easy. He doesn’t feel as if she’s mentally comparing him to another. He doesn’t feel as if she’s unsure with every kiss, every moment they spend together. She has very nearly placed herself into his hand, his heart. But what to do about it?

Is there room enough in his heart for two wild girls? Or is there just one who holds court there, and he doesn’t realize which of the two it is? He can’t stop picturing Mary, with her raven hair and porcelain skin. But then his mind drifts to Kenna, her chestnut hair, her friendly honey-brown eyes, her golden skin. Kenna, who is so eager and so sure of everything she does. She has no grand title to lend her confidence, not like Mary. She isn’t afraid of the risks she makes everyday. She isn’t afraid. She isn’t afraid to love. To love _him_ , specifically.

And yet his mind wanders to Mary again. She’s so strong and cautious and wise. Her power is frightening and exhilarating, her control tremendous.

Kenna has that control. In a different way. She knows who she is. She knows exactly everything she will do. She doesn’t second-guess, not like Mary. She isn’t wise. No. No one could say she is wise. But she is intelligent. Damnably intelligent. She’s witty and sharp and clever. He loves making her laugh and loves that she makes him laugh.

Maybe that’s why he’s having a hard time choosing. There’s Kenna, who gives as much as she takes, who is so damn _easy_ to be with. Then there’s Mary, who makes him question everything he does with her. He wants to be the best for Mary. But with Kenna, he can just be _Bash_. He can be himself. He doesn’t have to worry whether he’s good enough for her, because that’s who she wants. Him. Exactly him, nothing embellished or added, just him. Plain bastard that he is.

And so he doesn’t do it lightly when he looks deep into her eyes, which are looking a bit questioning and confused after the long pause, and tells her, “We make a fine pair, Kenna.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was asked to write a happy Kennash fic, (well, not really asked, but using that word makes me feel better about my writing, so) so here it is. A semi-happy Kennash fic! I'd call it hopeful. I don't know. Whatever works. Maybe a realistic fic? I tried to show Bash's indecisiveness when it came to Kenna and Mary, as I do believe he does love Mary and Kenna. So, yeah. I swear, if the writers don't make Kennash romantic, they sure as hell better make it a brotp.
> 
> Also, when Bash talks about poker, it's supposed to be a reference to strip poker/any sexual thing you can think of. Bash is a witty character, and I'm not. I tried. Sorry.


End file.
